February 18, 2013
-
President’s Day – Same Sorry Congress
In Tennessee when I was a child, we never got this day off from school, and the only way I knew that it was a Holiday was that my dear friend, Betty, had a mother who worked for NASA — This precious mother who was up every morning at 4AM to get a ride to Huntsville, Alabama, because she was smart, and then there was not a large interstate between us and Huntsville. I knew what it was like to get up that early, for when Mama was in what appeared to be a manic phase, she insisted that we get all the evening chores done, would not allow us to do homework, and she would give us whatever there was to eat after which there was a clean up, and sometimes, especially on summer nights, I would cry, for it was light outside and I knew other families did not live as we lived, and I would hope Daddy was home, but when the Southern Diaspora fell, he could only tit home from the Chicago brick yard where he shoveled a whole lot of straw at Tuthill brick yard, so he could send money home for us to try to hold on to our farm.
Mama was dictator when dad was gone, and she did not spare the rod no matter how hard we worked, and some of her deeds would be unforgiveable to many of you, and some are so horrible that I cannot share them, but even this year I recalled to my husband that she was often having conversations with herself, and it had never occurred to me that my mother may have been hearing voices, though as she grew older, that particular part of her personality seemed to disappear. I know that she was so abused by my Dad as were a lot of Appalachian women at the time who married to get away from abuse, that she would often during his visits pick and pick until she knew darned well that he was going to go in to wife beating mode, and we would beg for these things to stop, and they would, but it would be many years, and I think my father’s joining the church was part of it, but my mother had serious health problems which went on for years, because the pathetic excuse of a surgeon who would remove her gallbladder left a sponge in her, and they would pump her full of antibiotics, but finally she was so full of infection that they had to take her to Huntsville where they would find the sponge and all of the neccrotic tissue which it caused. My folks did not know about medical malpractice and that mother should have been so compensated for pain and suffering as such she and dad would never have had to have worried about their next dime.
Her own youngest brother was the regular M.D. she would go to, and he blamed it on her fat body, and I would learn later how he made such fun of his eldest sister. Mercy is among the virtues which many of you will learn is necessary, for your heart can burst with hate; so most of the 8 kids in our family should be called in or President’s Day, and there should be a grand celebration for all black and white kids who made it through the decade of southern farmers being relocated to the Rust Belt factories, for we are the people you never heard of in your whole life, and much of my book, “Pinkhoneysuckle,” is based around these years when Black and White farmers would get subsidies to not plant their crops, and cotton was our living and a big tobacco bed, so fields would lay fallow, and the crop money did not equal enough to put clothes on our backs.
It is President”s Day afteralll, so let us celebrate President Eisenhower and his bunch who came in to Washington then, this midwestern man, war hero, and person who certainly did not visit our neck of the woods, for what good was a bunch of hillbillies and mountain goats. Every body knew that the boys who came home from war would have a little money, but folks like daddy who was not allowed to go had absolutely none, but he kept shame in his heart, and Mama would rub the shame, and we children who longed to have Daddy home were afraid when he came in, for most times, Mama was going to get smacked around, and if he could get in for a long weekend come Presidents Day with as many men as could be packed in a car sharing the cost of gasoline, and at best, getting a cold drink and moon pie at a gas station; then they were coming in.
Daddy and Mama would, “Take a rest,” as they called it, but we got two more brothers and a baby sister out of all of that, and now that I know of marriage and love, I can still see a little smile when Daddy would suggest he and Mama go and take that rest, and my mother looked happy, so I am so greatful that as horrible as it got sometimes, that they had a private affection, their little secrets, and my father did think my mother was his beautiful girl as my sister has letters of love he wrote to Mama. Those are the things which we all tried to hold on to.
We finally were able to get a car again, for we had to inconvenience neighbors and beg ahead of time for rides to anything important, and that should have not been either, for Mama felt such shame to ask. I am telling you that our whole house was filled with feeling shame, for people who had and called themselves Christians were not real good about just noticing that a family needs, and this whole bullying business of today was no different back then, and the poorer the kids, the worst the bullying. I prayed to God that our friend Mary Sue Taylor and her family would just give the whole damned classroom headlice. I went to school with the girl and her little brothers and sisters for four years or so, and I do not think anyone, including us ever acknowledged that they were alive.
They were the poor dirty, and I did not know where they lived, how they got clothes on their bodies, and they all huddled in the classroom together, these poor kids, but I do not think Mr. Eisenhower had too much concern about them or us even though we always had to wash up at night and unlike Arnold Schwartzenegger, we did get to have a fresh pan of water. That no one in the county helped those kids out was one damned shame, and they should have left school everyday with food to take home out of the kindness of heart, but I can share that I do not think much of anyone worried about them, and somewhere they would disappear from our county. Some said their daddy was in jail, so maybe they got a ride going north, for no one was taking care of them anywat,
When we had cotton picking money, we got to choose some clothes of our own, then when Mama decided that I was going to be the country traveling maid for ten dollars in a weekend, I was able to get some clothes, but that was now and again, so Mama must have kept my money now and then, but I don’t mind, and sometimes I would get us a box of cake mix, and finally I had school paper, but with no damned thanks to any President.
If President Obama was going to go down to Lexie Cross Roads, I would take him back on my road all the way back where the old house was, and I would show him that there where two pretty farms sat together, the road is full of all manner of housing around there. We didn’t generate trash, and when we finally did we kept our roads clean, but now there is trash, very scary dogs, and people do have guns, so a stranger had certainly better plan their visits, but the old folks are gone, and that area in the shawdow of Appalachian mountain’s tip gets called some fairly bad names, and people come over the roads to do business, but the home where Mama and Daddy could finally be proud does not have the nice look which they gave to it, and I hear that somebody got busted back there somewhere for meth cooking, but as I keep telling you; Those things are none of our business, and we keep our noses out of any goings on. But tomorrow is Presidents Day, and Mr. Obama is going to have a vacation, and the congress is going to be going somewhere, I presume, for some of them can no longer afford to move their families.
Now, I could go shopping tomorrow, for that is what people seem to enjoy doing, and in San Francisco a lot is in bloom, so I am going to think of Mama and Daddy, and how there are areas where no one comes to visit from Washington, but the dome of the Capitol needs a streak of lighting like the one that hit St. Peters, for I am so hopeful younger people that you might get together and find some of your votes going to candidates who might now be a Republican or a Democrat. God help us from the nasty oil sands in Canada, for there is an opportunity now to start rebuilding interstates from coast to coast, a rapid train system from East to West, and the young folks I see know that we need to keep lawn sizes down by using all kinds of other media which will hold up weather. In sunny areas like ours, solar does work, but we have to turn these houses over to the young who can get it done. We are not ready to give our house away, so we just have a patio of sorts and the folage and flowers are all around that. I wish that my parents could have lived to come out here together, but that is selfish of me, for they were tired.
This Presidents Day, what I am seeing, and I cannot answer for you, but it appears we have a great big do nothing congress once more, and I am not thrilled with some of President Obama’s agenda. As much as I feared Richard Nixon, he brought our military home, so I voted for Mr. Obama once more believing that was his intentions. We cannot win against Arab Extremist, and we cannot reign in Israel’s aggression toward the west bank, but please, Could we please leave Syria and Turkey alone. Bring on Roosevelt fireside chats, and know that we are powerless among the people of the world where Muslim extremist begin as children and are nurtured. Please bring the children home, Mr. President, and let countries plan their own battles.
It is imperative in two years to elect a new congress, because the congress that have been bought are beholding to their constituents, so whatever party you support; Please let us find our own competent people and build a better world without war. I believe that if sanctions starve little children in North Korea, that we all should insist that bood be carried over the border. Presidents Day? It is an opportunity to rise up ourselves and to make certain that we American people have the power to kick them all out, no matter how much money comes in the money pipeline. Would it not be glorious and a good time to show the billionaires, the same kind of people that endeavored to starve out all small farmers in Southern Appalachia over a half century ago, but to show them that we can pick out candidates who are moral, who believes that bread, not guns is a way to have affect across the world, just by starting conversations on a site like Xanga and reading about when the President and Congresss, Even The Supreme Court, can take on cases related to anti-poverty and the role which the government has to spread the table for those who cannot helt thenselves.
President’s day is a great day to look at who all is in congress now, and they do not believe you have the time or the money, plus the organizational skills to kick out half of the congress, for in mid-term elections you, along with the thousands of us are sitting at the back of the bus — We are many faces of faith and skin from alabaster to the darkest brown, and despite their promises; Congress is acting exactly as it did before the last election, talking compromise, but never really studying the fact that we can gather enough votes to allow this President to make a wave in history within our oceans of discontend..
Have a Happy Valentine’s Day
a